


Don't you mind

by thedarkmoon



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Eventual Smut, FIx It, M/M, Violence, or fix billy i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 21:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12734700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedarkmoon/pseuds/thedarkmoon
Summary: Billy doesn't want to become his father. But Steve is making it damn hard to let certain things go.





	Don't you mind

**Author's Note:**

> So just as a warning: this is not safe, sane, and consensual at the beginning. They don't know how to communicate but I promise its coming. This also might be triggering for people who have gone through abuse.

The first time it happens, they don't realize it. Beating Steve’s face in at the Byers was a blur, a rush of energy releasing itself from Billy as though he had no control over it. His mind tapped out and that part of his brain that fed on hate and anger and brutality came out to play. He was glad Max had drugged him. Because without it, Steve would probably be dead. 

That was the first time it happened.

***

Billy shrinks into himself after that, becomes a shell of himself. He’s benched in basketball, watching the team from the sidelines. He just slouches about, taking Max where ever she wants in an effort to make it up to her. He can’t do much else, because of his broken arm. 

His dad never liked failures.

***

The cast came off six weeks later, and Billy still didn’t want to talk about it. 

Steve was the resurrected king of the basketball court, and Billy didn’t even try to keep up. His arm felt weak, useless. He hadn’t worked out all those weeks, and it showed in the muscle loss. He watched Steve sink another basket, his face almost healed. He wondered if it still hurt.

***

“What's your deal, man?” Steve was next to him in the showers, the only two left. “I thought you’d be stoked to be back in the game at the very least.”

Billy scrubbed soap into his hair, ignoring the question. He grit his teeth, feeling the old familiar anger burn to life in his chest.

“You still pissed about your sister? Cause I’m sorry man, it just-”

“Stop. Talking.” Billy grit out, eyes closed under the spray. He didn’t want to think about that night, about what had happened after he woke up to his car gone, sister gone, everyone gone. He’d walked back home, home to the monster that was his father.

“Alright, alright. Just. Trying to make amends ok?” Steve muttered, and Billy finally opened his eyes, glaring.

“The fuck you have to make amends for?”

***

Billy promised after almost losing his balls that he would make a turn for the better. The breaking of his arm made it difficult to want to do that, but. He never wanted to do that to a human again, never wanted to see that look on a child again. He didn’t want to be his father, all over again. In a way, beating Steve senseless actually helped him realize what he was doing wrong in his life.

He started going to the counselor at school, talking about his anger. He had to be careful, not to name names or say things to arouse suspicion because he knew how that would end. Like California. Nothing resolved, everything lost. He couldn’t tell the counselor exactly what his dad did, but he could come close.

“He’s just, overbearing to the point where I want to snap, all the time,” Billy told her, not looking her in the eye, but not feeling judged either. 

“And what happens when you snap, Billy?” She asked in a kind voice.

“I break things.”

_ His arm hurt, that's all Billy could focus on. A bright flare of pain like a hot poker and someone was screaming, jesus it was loud, oh god, that was him screaming, maybe Susan too, in the background. He could hear something about a hospital, and his dad's rebuttal. _

_ “No, he  _ deserves  _ this. Let it be.” _

Billy clenched his hands tight, breathing out through his nose hard. The thought of that bastard made him want to break so many things.

“Does your father ever break things?” Billy looked up at her, and he felt tears in his eyes for the first time in front of someone in years.

“Yes. Yes he does.”

***

Billy had been studiously avoiding his dad to the best of his ability. But mornings were hard, because he had to wait for Max. And Max didn’t seem to understand his hurry.

“Susan, where's the milk?” Neil called from the kitchen , freezing Billy in his tracks.

“Should be in the fridge, dear.” He heard her call from Max’s room. It was picture day, which meant she was doing Max’s hair. Which meant he couldn’t rush them out of the house.

“I don’t see it….” Neil walked into the hallway, eyes narrowing at his son. “Oh, you still live here?”

Billy didn’t know how to respond, caught between his father and retreat back into his room.

“No wonder all the milks gone…” His dad went back into the kitchen, oblivious to the fact that his son had sank down on the wall, close to tears for the second time in two days. 

***

Billy was in a foul mood when he got to school to say the least. He was out of the car first, before Max, leaving her behind to get out and lock her own door. He needed a release, but he didn’t know what to do.

He went to the locker room first, thinking maybe he could skip first period and pump iron instead, work his arm up to where it was the same as it was before. The counselor had told him to find ways to release his anger without breaking things, suggested crumpling paper or squeezing ice in his hands. 

He figured working out would have the same effect, right?

***

That became his routine, to go work out whenever he got angry. He muscles came back quickly, soon he was back to pressing what he was able to before, and more. He only skipped class the mornings his dad made an appearance before he could leave, but he spent his breaks and lunch in the weight room, building himself up, letting out his anger. That is, until Steve showed up one morning, on the wrong day.

The second time it happened, Steve wanted it.

***

“Don’t you have a first, Hargrove?” Billy almost dropped the bar, snapped out of the zen he’d been in for the last ten minutes as his muscles burned.

“The fuck you want, Harrington?” Billy shot back, trying to reign in the anger still simmering below the surface. His ribs ached from where he’d fallen against the counter as he leaned over to grab his water bottle, chugging from it.

“To work out?” Steve started stretching like the prep he was and Billy sneered, feeling his rage flare up.

“Fine. But I’m busy.” He returned to his reps, glaring at the mirror.

“Shouldn’t you have someone spot you with that much weight, Hargrove?”

Billy felt something inside him snap. This was supposed to be cathartic, a calming experience so he could go through the rest of the day like a normal person, and not some raged out freak. Steve was ruining it.

“Shut. Up.” Billy said, not turning around, but setting the bar down, meeting Steve’s eyes in the mirror.

“Jesus, you’re so testy lately, all I’m trying to do is make sure you’re ok-” Billy was on him in a flash, pressing him up to the wall by the shoulders.

“Why don’t you be like every piece of shit I’ve beaten to a pulp and leave me alone?” Billy growled, face inches from Steve’s. He couldn’t help it, not now, not when his space had been so rudely invaded.

“Because, because I’m worried about you alright.”Steve said, his voice wavering slightly as Billy’s grip tightened. 

“You're worried about me?” Billy scoffed, a cruel smile streaking his face, “That's rich Harrington. Especially coming from you.” He let him go, going back to his water bottle, shaking his head.

“I’m serious!” Steve said, then lowered his voice, “Max, uh, she told me about your dad and. I’m sorry man. My old man's a dick, but nothing like that.”

Billy’s shoulders had hiked up to his ears, defensive. He knew that Max knew what his father did, what he had  _ done _ , but to tell stranger, an outsider to their family, that? It was his secret to tell, not hers. His rage flared again.

“Harrington, I’m gonna be nice and give you a chance to leave now, before I make you. And tell Maxine she needs to learn to shut her mouth.” Billy was about thirty seconds from losing his grip on his anger and actually breaking something, most likely Steve.

“Hey, hey, she was worried about you, and don’t you dare hurt her about this because it's my fault-”

“I SAID LEAVE!” Billy roared, rounding on Steve, fists balled tight. But Steve didn’t run, didn’t try to flee. Instead, he blocked the exit. 

“No.”

It took every ounce of self control Billy had not to bash Steve’s pretty face in right then and there. But something about Steve’s stance, the way he seemed to  _ invite _ Billy closer, had him paused.

“C’mon, tough guy, smash my face in.” Steve said quietly, stepping forward until he was within reach. “Throw a punch. I know you want to.”

Billy stared at him, confused. “I-no. No. That's not the way this is supposed to go.”

“Why not, huh Hargrove? Only punch a guy if he doesn’t want it?” Steve was egging him on, and Billy could still feel anger simmer in his veins, but. It wasn’t that. He made a promise, a promise to never hurt anyone, to not be his dad.

Bill shook his head. “You don’t want that. No one does.” He stepped back, only to have Steve step forward into his space again.

“Yeah, I do Hargrove.” Steve said in a low voice, eyes bright with something Billy didn’t quite understand. “Do it, c’mon.”

And so Billy swung in from the left, not his full strength, but enough to send Steve reeling. And it felt good. So good, to finally have someone to punch again. Billy did it again, and a third time, and then a fourth before his steam ran out, and he realized where he was, what he’d done. He looked  at Steve, blood dripping from his nose, eyes blown wide.

Billy couldn’t believe he’d broken it already, when he’d thought he’d figured it out. It was all Steve’s fault.     


End file.
